A Wolf's Way
by Mervyn Edmund MacIntyre
Summary: Dead before it's even over, Harry is sent back to the day before his Hogwarts letter. Though this time with his memories and a little more...unusual...help. Hufflepuff!Harry. Neutral!Harry(?)
1. Prologue: It All Begins

**_Document Ver. of A Wolf's Way._**

**Disclaimer: I make no money off of this story as I do not own ****_Harry Potter_****, all rights go to J.K, our Queen.**

_Prologue_

When Harry would think about a supposed after-life, he did not imagine an empty room. He truly did mean empty: everywhere he looked it was barren and white. Harry supposed he'd at least see Sirius or his Mum and Dad. Maybe this was one big prank on him, a "Welcome to the After-life!" for him. He couldn't see any banners, not even some tiny arrows telling him where to go.

'Can you feel the magic?'

The voice was rumbly yet it still manged to glide around the room, as soft as feathers. As though it had been locked away until the voice made its presence known. The maic pulsated and buzzed, swirling and twirling in the air.

The voice chuckled, it was low and deep, in harmony with the magic, 'Turn around, child.'

Harry spun around, eyes meeting the owner of the voice. It was a wolf, a great-big, hulking, healthy timber wolf. It wasn't a werewolf, Harry was sure of it, or he'd be dead - again. Besides, it was much too bulky for that, not a frail bone in that body. 'And who are you?' he snapped. _I don't have time for this, _he thought, _I should be meeting with Sirius or something!_

'No one of your concern,' it growled back. Harry's breathing hitched as the magic spiked with the wolf's anger. 'Let us get this over with, for you disturbed my rest.

_Pfft, sorry._ 'Over with what?'

The wolf pressed its nose to the floor, and the floor obeyed. The magic twisted once more before spitting out three, flat images. 'Death's Cloak, Stick and Stone,' it drawled, 'you own them all: you are the "Master of Death".' It snorted before flicking the images away.

_Wait, what? _'Excuse me?' Harry spluttered, 'how?'

'I did not witness the story, so it is hazy at best: the Cloak was your family's Heirloom, you were gifted the Stone by an "Albus Dumbledore" and you managed to disarm a "Voldemort" before one of his spells broke the ground and you drowned.'

'But,' Harry pressed on, 'Voldemort killed me, he should the Master of the Elder Wa-Stick.'

'_Technically,_ the water killed you,' it drawled, snorting in mockery.

_You're kidding me. _'I'm Master of Death on a _technicality?!_ It's not even cool anymore!' Harry yelled. It was like he was Death's illegitimate offspring or something!

'If it makes you feel better, He agrees with you. So, I offer you a proposition: for the price of a sliver of your soul, we'll send you back to the day before you recieve your "Hogwarts letter".'

'Hold on, my soul?'

'Yes. Unfortunately, this'll make your soul unstable, so we'll replace the piece with a bit of my late loyal servant, Wulthric. You'll "call the shots", _don't worry. _Though you'll be able to talk to him and him to you.'

Harry acquiesced as it started to sound promising now. _Finally_, he mused. 'Do I get to be a wolf, like you?'

'_Yes,_' he sighed, 'It'll be an "Animagus" for you.'

_Good, _Harry thought. He'd been an Animagus for a short time before his death, though it was a stag like his dad.

'One last thing,' it added, 'you must create a third side. Never truly join either the Light or the Dark. My servant will help you.'

'What? Why?'

'The world's not black and white, little boy.' The wolf let out one last, haunting bark before Harry travelled, 'it wouldn't have mattered anyway, the decision was already made.'


	2. Chapter 1 S'not a bad cop

**Chapter 1 of A Wolf's Way.**

**Disclaimers: I don't own HP, wish I did. Bla, bla, bla, it's all J.K's.**

Chapter 1.

With a blinding flash, Harry was back in the cupboard. 'Bastard, absolute bastard,' he muttered, rubbing his scar. 'Merlin, what time is it?'

**I've no idea, lad. **

Harry sat up in surprise, nearly banging his head on the ceiling of the cupboard. 'Oh, right, you're here,' he grumbled. First item on the list: Get away from the Dursley's.

**Got a clippy-thing? There's an old trick we can use.**

_A paper-clip? _Harry could almost feel the old wolf nod. 'Right,' he muttered, fumbling around for one of the battered paper-clips he remembered having. Finding a blue one, he unravelled it as Wulthric instructed, slowly picking the lock. Why he was trusting the creature was a little hazy, but it was either that or him sitting in a cupboard, then a hut, before being rescued by Hagrid.

**We should be fine, **Wulthric rumbled, **I can taste the nightlight.**

The lock soon opened with a satisfying "click" and he pushed open the door carefully. But, honestly, _taste_? He shook away the thought and crept out into the hallway. Harry did his best to ignore the pictures – he didn't need to be reminded of their putrid faces just before he left. _Hold on, I think Uncle Vernon left his watch on the table. _Correct in his thought, Harry grabbed the watch and strapped it to his right wrist. (Check the time: 11 o'clock sharp.) He snatched some odd bits of money that had also been left on the table as well. Slinking back down the hallway, he repeated the same lock-picking trick on the front door. He opened the door fervently and dashed out of it, not bothering to close it. Wulthric inquired about the action and Harry told him, 'I'm not coming back, am I? Let them be stripped of every item for all I care.'

He stumbled out into the night, already shivering from the cold.

**Were you ever an Animagus in the last life, lad? **

_Yeah, I was a stag though._

**At least it's four-legged; transform then.**

After some struggle, Harry managed to – much to his pride. He was a large timber wolf and, after looking into a reflective enough puddle, looked just like Wulthric (apparently). To a zoologist, he'd be easily recognisable as his species: a blackish-grey back, gingery-white legs and a white belly, ginger snout and with some light ginger markings around his face. The only difference was that he had a ginger marking on his forehead, a lightning bolt obviously. After some inspection, Harry realised he was quite fluffy and had good, broad face and stocky build.

The question of where to go next preyed on his mind. After some rummaging through old memories, Harry'd decided,

_We'll go down to the bus-stop, I swear there's some odd buses around this time._

He galloped away, howling and barking into the night. It felt just like flying: absolutely fantastic. The wind in his fur made Harry go faster and faster, his paws snapping twigs upon twigs.

**Harry?**

_Mhm?_

**What should we do about the third side?**

_Dunno, depends on what house we go into._

**Which ones are we ruling out?**

_Slytherin 'cause there's too many Dark supporters; same with Gryffindor but for the Light. _

**That leaves Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff.**

_Honestly, I don't think I'd survive in Ravenclaw. There's no way I could convince the Hat to pet me in **Hufflepuff** though. I had a hard time getting out of Slytherin as it is._

Harry could hear Wulthric chuckle. It was deep, like the wolf's in the room. It managed to carry a baritone sound though, while the other's was much more scratchy.

**Use me.** **I'm a dog, y'know, the _loyal_ and _trustworthy_ ones? Some might consider us _hard-working _even.**

_You're...you're going to trick the Hat into thinking I'm the Perfect Hufflepuff?_

**Thousand-year old dog versus thousand- year old hat, s'not a bad cop.**

_Brilliant! And with my influence, I'll be able to eventually get the House on my side._

**S'not a bad cop, s'not a bad cop.**

Harry agreed, quite fervently. After their chat, they soon arrived, so he made a quick stop to transform back before walking to the Little Whinging bus-stop, wrapping his rags around him tighter to alleviate some of the cold. It took some time for a bus to arrive and Harry got on it with eyes on his back. The driver seemed suspicious, but money shut the man up. **Ah,** **humans****, so greedy.**

It was Oh-clock by the time they got to London (the trip had required two more buses and most of their money), then another 15 minutes until Harry arrived at the Leaky Cauldron. Harry cursed quietly to himself, sweeping some hair over to cover his scar.

Entering the pub, Harry approached the sleepy bar-man. 'Eshcuse me shir? I was wonderin' if you are offerin' a room until the morning',' he said in a high-pitched voice, putting on a slight lisp. Tom peered down at the boy, wondering why in Merlin a small man like him was doing at his pub at midnight. 'What're yer doin' 'ere, young'un?'

'Oh! Uh, I dunno know, shir. I jusht woke up outside and I remembered about Da tellin' me to go to the Leaky Cauldron if I get losht.'

Tom sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 'Alrigh', alrigh'. Yer can 'ave a place just 'til the morning', then I'll open up the alley so yer can go to the Ministry and report yerself lost, aight?'

'Yesh-shir!' Harry squeaked.

'Follow me then, lad.'

He did and was led up to a small, rickety room with an over-sized bed and bare, wooden walls and flooring. Tom brandished his wand and a mug of hot chocolate appeared in his hands. He handed it to Harry, telling the boy to "drink up".

**Good act, lad, **Wulthric muttered.

Harry nodded, slurping down the last of his hot-choc. He moved into the bed, wrapping the thin sheet tightly around himself. 'Night.'

**Night.**

**_And that's a roll! If you feel inclined, drop a review or comment. It's my first story so I'd enjoy feedback._**

**_Mervyn out._**


End file.
